ahs-imaginefics

[ahs-imaginefics]

Man Enough

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 4 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT, mild swearing ❧ Word Count: 6.2k

❧ Requested by @ineedmorefanfics2

❧ Request: "I’m a slut for the enemies to lovers trope and was wondering if you could do something like that with Daryl Dixon and a female reader? Maybe they got off to a bad start and have just despised each other ever since? The two get trapped somewhere and have to stick with only the company of each other for a few days and realize the other isn’t all the bad? Soft confessions and a little spice? Thanks a bunch and I hope you have a great day <3"

❧ A/N: So I took the phrase "a little spice" and ramped it up to a thousand. Basically what we have here is enemies to lovers via slightly angry sex, but also genuine forgiveness and some sweet moments where we see a relationship starting between the two crazy kids. We love to see it. Also Daryl is his stubborn self and very irritable which is adorable as always.

“God, you’re a real insufferable jerk, you know that?”

He scoffed as leaves crumbled under his heavy feet, stomping defiantly through the woods.

“And you’re a real uppity, big-mouthed bitch,” he retorted, to which you shook your head and impulsively leaned over to pick up the nearest object with some kind of weight to it to throw at his back as he walked ahead of you.

A small rock about the size of a grape, but it would have to do.

You flung the stone weakly at his back, where it hit right between his stupid shoulder blades, and those stupid angel wings on his stupid back, with those stupid broad shoulders and—

“What the shit was that for?!” he barked at you, lumbering towards you in rage, with a red, strained face and a heaving chest. “You throwin’ shit at me now? Jesus Christ, what in the goddamn hell is wrong with you, woman?!”

“You called me a bitch!” you replied, shoving his chest with your hand and pushing him further away from you, though he seemed to push back, coming closer to you again. “How dare you call me that!”

“Well, it’s what you’re bein’!” he yelled.

“Only because you won’t listen to me! You never listen to me! We should’ve followed the creek like I said, then we wouldn’t be off the map and completely lost!”

“Said we ain’t lost! What the hell would you know about it, anyway? You ever even set foot outside ‘fore all this, princess?”

You scoffed, narrowing your eyes and now filled with a burning heat at his not-so-affectionate nickname for you.

“Oh, sorry I wasn’t born with a crossbow on my back and a—a giant chip on my shoulder! At least I’m trying!”

“Yeah, tryin’ ta be a big pain in my ass!”

“I’m being a pain in your ass?” you asked, pointing at yourself and gawking at him in furious disbelief. “What, because I’m telling you that you’re wrong? Well, you’re wrong, Daryl! We’re going the wrong way, I’m telling you. Why won’t you listen to me? Why won’t you ever listen to me?!”

His nostrils flared as he moved closer, almost coming nose to nose with you. His eyes were dark with anger and you could feel his hot breath bearing down on your face.

“‘Cause I don’t need you,” he growled. “Don’t need no one.”

You shook your head and lowered your gaze, now hurt by his words.

“You know,” you said shakily, “sometimes I think you might be okay, then you act like…”

“Like what?” he asked, glowering at you and stepping forward every time you tried to back away, hounding you like an animal. “Say it.”

“Like your brother.”

He let his crossbow fall to the ground with a clamor, and pressed his chest to yours until your back was suddenly against the scratchy bark of a tree.

“Don’t ya ever talk about my brother,” he growled. You swallowed hard, looking deep into those deep, hidden blue eyes, so inscrutable and cunning. “You didn’t know him.”

But you did know him. He was one of the Governor’s henchmen, and an important one at that.

When you were taken in at Woodbury, it was immediately clear to you that the redneck with the hook hand and a booming voice that made tectonics move was a bad man. It didn’t help that he was constantly saying such sexist, perverted things to you.

It wasn’t long after that that Woodbury fell, and you narrowly escaped with your life, joining the rest of the citizens who sought refuge at the prison, where you were greeted by a man who you almost immediately recognized as Merle’s younger, less bigoted, but still related, brother.

That was enough to set you off—you wouldn’t like him, you decided then. You’d never like him. Not a Dixon.

Were you expecting things to get complicated when he proved himself to be a good man? When you saw him come through those gates on his bike with medical supplies for the elderly, or when you saw him holding that baby, cooing at her like she was his own?

Maybe you didn’t plan on him being so much better than Merle, never once laying a hand on you or sending a lewd comment your way… Maybe reconciling your dilemma by being standoffish to the man wasn’t the best strategy, but at times you couldn’t escape the resemblance between him and his late brother, so it seemed the best course of action to get him to stay away from you.

It didn’t work. It only irritated him.

Thus began the rivalry between you and Daryl, the man who infuriated you and intrigued you, to the point where you thought about him much more than you really wanted to.

In truth, he thought of you, too.

You drove him to places he didn’t want to be, to an attitude he thought he’d left far behind. His temper blew through the roof when you came around, and though he tried to control it, when you ignored him, or told him to leave you alone despite his genuine attempts to be kind to you, it flipped a switch.

He couldn’t quite explain it exactly, but he knew you had a hold over him, a tendency to rile him up and pull him tighter than a tourniquet even when you weren’t around. Something about the way you didn’t want anything to do with him made him retaliate with an unproportionate level of anger that in turn caused you to fight back.

It had become so bad, the bickering, the name-calling, the tension, that Rick had had enough and asked Daryl to take you with him on his hunt.

Needless to say, it wasn’t going well.

“Oh, I knew him,” you said, still quivering a bit from how close Daryl was to you, huffing and puffing just an inch or two from your face. “And you’re just like him—cruel and ignorant.”

You pushed past him, turning around and heading back towards the creek.

“Where do you think you’re goin’?” he asked before tugging your arm and pulling you back.

You yanked your arm away and readjusted the strap of your backpack over your shoulder. “I’m going back to the landmark, and I’m going to look at the map.”

“We don’t need no map,” he retorted, following behind you as you kept walking.

You turned abruptly and stopped. “Actually, we do, because you’re wrong.”

“I know these goddamn woods like the back of my hand, woman!”

“Oh, really? Then why are we lost, Daryl?”

“We ain’t lost!”

“We’re lost!” you yelled back, a laugh in your voice from your disbelief at the man’s stubbornness.

He was about to open his mouth when a walker came stumbling behind you, its translucent skin stretched thin over its rotting skull. “Look out!” he said, pulling you back towards him while unstrapping his crossbow.

You unsheathed your machete and took out the next walker as Daryl shot the first one.

“Shit,” he said, looking in the direction the walkers came from and seeing a large herd ambling slowly between the trees. At least they seemed far enough to not have noticed the two of you yet, but they were certainly coming in your direction. “Come on!”

The herd pushed the two of you back towards the creek, just like you’d wanted. You reached the waterline out of breath with Daryl, who looked around frantically for someplace to hide from the slowly but surely incoming herd.

“There,” you said, leaning over in fatigue and pointing to an old wooden shed on the other side of the creekbed.

He huffed and jumped down the rocks into the creek. You followed suit, and the two of you hastily skipped through the water to the other side, where Daryl pulled you up the rocks and pushed you up onto the edge. You reached your hand out and pulled him up, too, before barrelling towards the old fisherman’s shack.

Thank God the thing was well-built, with thick wood walls and only one boarded up window. Upon entering, it became abundantly clear that someone had holed up there before, since there was a small cot, a lantern, and a cardboard box of canned food. Immediately you struck a match to light the lantern, and you were relieved to find that whoever stayed there before must’ve been gone for some time, probably dying out in the woods if their things were still here.

“It’s dusty,” you whispered to Daryl, who peeked out through the slats over the tiny window. “No one’s been here for a while. I think we’re good.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, watching the herd of walkers pass some several yards away. “Boarded up good, too.” He walked over to the large makeshift latch on the door, and pulled on it to test its strength. “No walkers gettin’ in here, least not if we keep quiet… Might be hard for you.”

“Screw you,” you replied, digging through the box of food. “We can take this back to the prison.”

Daryl shone his flashlight over you. “Won’t last long with how many people we got.”

You scoffed. “Would you try to be a little positive?”

He suddenly shushed you, and put out his flashlight when the herd must’ve gotten closer to the shed, passing it on both sides. He sat down next to you and pulled you both into the corner with his crossbow pointed at the door. “Be quiet,” he said.

Leaves crackled from all around the shed for a while, indicating that the herd was big, at least fifty walkers, you surmised (though Daryl argued a hundred). When the movement subsided, night was just beginning to settle in, and there wasn’t any way you could get back to the prison before dark.

Especially with such a big herd not far ahead of you, it was mutually agreed that staying the night in the shack would be the best course of action, though it would be hard, since it was only one small, square room, and you were essentially stuck with the person you got along with the least.

He preoccupied himself with staring through that crack in the boarded up window for an hour or two, as if he could even see anything. You sat atop the cot with your knees tucked against your chest and watched the fire in the lantern flicker delicately, and listened to the sounds of the night—the owls, the crickets, the frogs… Until it occurred to you that you were incredibly bored.

“Are you going to be staring through that window all night?” you asked him after a long silence. “You’re making me nervous.”

“Pfft,” he scoffed, rubbing his chin with his hand, still staring out that small crack. “Could say the same about you.”

You huffed and stretched out your legs. “Well, I’m bored,” you said. “Maybe we could… I don’t know, talk.”

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow and a generally disbelieving expression. “Talk?”

“Well, yeah. Talk, you know, like normal human beings.”

He moved his head to look back out the window. “That’s rich, comin’ from someone who never wants ta talk to me.”

“Look,” you sighed, “it’s not that I don’t want to talk to you, just that…” You trailed off as you struggled to come up with a good reason for ignoring Daryl these past few months since you arrived.

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I remind you of Merle.”

That was the long and short of it, yes, but you knew Daryl wasn’t like Merle, not in a lot of ways. He could be impulsive and reckless, but he wasn’t a pig.

“Sometimes,” you said honestly. “I knew him before I knew you. I know… I know you’re not him, though. Not like him, like I said earlier. I was just pissed. So, um… I’m sorry about that. It was out of line.”

He was rendered silent again, and opted instead to begin carving his initials into the wood below the window. “Let’s talk about somethin’ else,” he said after a while, and you could make out the beginning of a D.D. in the wall.

It brought just a hint of a smile to your face, for whatever reason. Maybe that he wasn’t totally averse to talking with you, since he didn’t just leave you hanging, but offered to change the subject.

“Okay,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Do you admit I was right?”

He raised his head. “Right about what?”

“About being lost,” you said. “I mean, we were lost. That herd actually took us back in the right direction. I know where we are now.”

He scoffed. “Already knew where we were. We were never lost. I was just takin’ a detour.”

“Detour?” you laughed. “Daryl, we were lost. You know that.”

His knife clattered to the floor, and he raised himself from the flimsy wooden chair he sat in. He hovered over you now, breathing heavily and glowering down at you.

“You know exactly how to push my buttons, don’t ya?” he asked, in that low, gravelly voice of his. “Told ya I knew what I was doin’. I was gettin’ us there.”

“No, you weren’t,” you said, rising to your feet and trying to maintain some semblance of equal standing as you faced him. “You were getting us even more lost, all because you’ve got too much pride to listen to me, or to look at the goddamn map.”

He raised his index finger and pointed it to his head. “It’s all in here, princess,” he growled.

Your lips tightened and you stepped forward, now simply pissed off at his arrogance. “Don’t call me that,” you said. “Why don’t you just grow a pair of balls and admit when you’re wrong?”

His eyes seemed to turn dark as he pressed his chest against yours again, like he’d done earlier that day, but there was something else in those eyes that you couldn’t quite put a finger on. It made you subconsciously lean even further, though, almost wanting to get lost in those deep-set blue eyes and try to figure out whatever was going on in that hard head of his.

“What are you sayin’?” he asked sternly.

“I’m saying you act like a petulant little boy, when you should really be acting like a man.”

You tried to turn around, not wishing to be so close to him anymore, with the tension between you two getting thicker than it had ever been before, but he stopped you, grabbing both of you arms with such great force that the muscles in his exposed arms began to flex and strain with how tightly he was holding onto you.

“You sayin’ I ain’t a man?” he asked, raising his voice a little too high for comfort, considering there could’ve been walkers nearby. Still, he seemed not to care now, which frightened you. When Daryl stopped caring, you knew he had lost some kind of mental faculty keeping him in check. “That what you’re sayin’?”

You froze, looking at him with wide, bewildered eyes as his seemed to narrow more and more, and you couldn’t keep your gaze from trailing down to his lips, where his tongue slipped out ever so slightly to sloppily lick them back and forth. You couldn’t quite tell, what with how dark the shack was, and how wide his pupils had become, but you swore he might’ve been looking up and down your body, which shook a little in his tight grasp. The more you felt his eyes on you, the more you began to tremble.

“I—I don’t know,” you stuttered, genuinely bewildered and almost forgetting where you even were. All you knew was that Daryl was holding you so close to him now that you could feel the heat emanating from his body, and the rapid heartbeat in his chest, which seemed to mirror your own.

He bit his lip as he took you in more than he’d ever allowed himself before this. He’d looked at you before, and he’d have to stop himself from looking too long before someone noticed, or, God forbid, before you noticed, but now, as much as he was burning from the inside out, with variations of frustration he’d only felt if he’d looked at you for a little too long, he simply didn’t care.

To put out this incessant fire in his heart, he’d do anything now, even succumb to his more primal urges.

He yanked you closer to him once more before his breath tickled your ear as he whispered, “You wanna find out?” he asked, now completely ignoring his better judgment and beginning to give into these suppressed desires he’d pushed down for weeks. “I can show ya… how much of a man I really am. That what you want, princess?”

Oh, Jesus Christ, you thought to yourself. This isn’t happening.

Of course you wanted Daryl. You weren’t blind.

He was gorgeous, not in a particularly traditional sense, but in a dirty, rugged, rough-and-tumble kind of way. The muscles he had were from hard physical labor and pulling on that crossbow all day. He was naturally quite bulky, too, and you had a bad habit of wondering what he looked like shirtless.

He was handsome, too, with lovely cheekbones that gave his face dimension, and a perfectly plump nose that you found rather cute. His blue eyes were just the icing on the cake, the feature that reinforced Daryl as the perfect male specimen. Oh, and he had a perfect mop of dark hair, but that was a whole other story.

Yes, you were very attracted to him, but it didn’t change the fact that he was rude to you. Still, you knew he was only like that because you ignored him first, and that he really was a good man, if a little grumpy at times.

Just like Daryl, you had to keep yourself from looking too long, lest you develop an image in your head that you’d take to the confines of your cell and use to pleasure yourself against your conscious dislike of him and his brother.

Now, though, if the man was really doing what you thought he was doing, you wouldn’t say no.

“Yes,” you muttered softly, barely audibly as a part of you hoped he couldn’t hear your admission.

He let his grip on your wrist weaken to trail his fingers up your arm until he reached the edge of your short-sleeved blouse.

“Yes, what?” he whispered again, this time letting his lips graze the helix of your ear. “What do you want?”

Another whisper and you might’ve fallen to pieces without him even touching you. You just hoped he really wasn’t like his brother, messing with you, or being perverted for his own amusement. Something in his voice and his movements told you he was serious, that he really wanted you and wouldn’t hurt you.

As soon as you gathered the composure to move, you turned your head to face him straight on, returning his serious, stern look.

“Show me you’re a man.”

He looked at you for just a few more tense, excruciating moments, trailing his eyes over your face as if to assess whether or not you were as serious as he was. He must’ve determined you were, because without another moment of hesitation, he had you pressed against the wall of the sturdy little shack, where he held your arms above your head and glowered at you through hungry eyes.

“You got any idea how much shit you put me through?” he asked, his eyes wandering to where your cleavage met your shirt collar. “How much you drive me crazy, always treatin’ me like this?”

Your lips trembled, and seemed to jut forward as you instinctively wanted to kiss him, and to feel his tongue wriggling around in your empty mouth. You just hoped it wouldn’t be empty for long.

“I’m sorry,” you panted, and closed your eyes shut when an almost pathetic need for him rained over you. “Make love to me,” you begged. “I can’t take it anymore. I need you, please.”

A short, guttural growl emanated from his mouth, which engulfed yours in a matter of seconds. Your mouth opened immediately, letting him penetrate you with his tongue and sloppily massage your lips with his. There was so much desperation in his kiss, and yet such a patient understanding, as he knew this was an unexpected turn of events. He didn’t go into this thinking he’d end up pinning you against a wall with a throbbing erection beneath his jeans, but it sort of just happened, and he wasn’t going to be the first to stop it.

When he let your arms fall limp to your sides, he immediately hoisted up your leg and held it up around his waist, all the while thrusting his core into yours repeatedly, to the point where he couldn’t quite keep his lips in one place, and they moved all around your face despite his attempts to keep steady.

Spurred on by the feeling, you grinded against him to feel the pressure on your clit, and if you carried on that way, you were sure you might have an orgasm just from the feeling.

“S-stop,” you whimpered, placing your hand between your core and his. “Just for a sec…”

He panted and pressed his forehead against yours, breathing hard and fast. “You all right?” he asked with his eyes shut tight. You could tell he was trying to keep himself from letting go too soon, too.

You giggled and cupped his cheeks in your hands before kissing his lips softly, to which he opened his eyes wide in surprise.

“You’re so cute,” you panted, and snuck a peek at the outline of his erection. “And very horny… How are we going to do this? I mean, what’s the plan?”

He scoffed, though you could tell that he was blushing, even in the darkness of that dimly lit shed. “We gotta come up with a damn agenda?” he asked. “You always gotta be so technical, huh?”

You somehow became infatuated with his hair, running your fingers through it and twirling it between your fingers as you bit your lip in thought. “You’re such a dick,” you said, in a strangely adoring tone. “A big, grumpy dick.”

Not keeping his eyes off you, he stepped away, and though you didn’t take your gaze from him, either, you could hear the clatter of his belt buckle and the unzipping of his pants, then the dull sound of the heavy jeans falling to the floor.

“Why don’t ya put that big mouth of yours to use?”

A surge of lust pulsed through you, a tingling sensation blossoming from your core and spreading through your legs, causing them to weaken and practically sink to the ground on their own accord.

You came face-to-face with his cock, already throbbing and red with arousal. Placing your hands on his thighs, and gently squeezing them in anticipation, you kissed the base of his cock, trailing up and down its length with your lips before grabbing it in your hand and tugging on it gently, then more forcefully as you placed the tip in your mouth.

His hands immediately came to the back of your head where his fingers interlaced in your hair and pulled you further down on his cock. The feeling of your tongue tickling his sensitive shaft was almost too much to bear, and at the same time, he wished you’d never stop.

“Shit,” he huffed, throwing his head back a little, and quickly looking back down to watch you. Your eyes met his as you hoped to gauge his reaction, and to just look at his blissful face as you went down on him.

Catching your breath, you released him from your mouth with a pop, and lifted his cock to hold it against his belly as you tongued at his balls, taking each in your mouth one by one.

“I guess you really do have balls,” you said between licks.

He removed your hand from his cock and shoved it back into your mouth.

“You got a job to do, woman.”

You moaned onto his cock as he pushed it deeper towards the back of your throat, causing you to gag a little when he went too deep, but it felt so good, tasted so good.

He thrusted harder into your mouth, not relenting and forcing you to make all kinds of strangled noises.

“Shit,” he groaned as he watched you gag and your eyes begin to water. Still, you moaned in pleasure at how he filled your mouth. “Shit, that’s good.”

He hadn’t felt this in so long, and the feeling of his hand could never compete with your mouth and your tongue going up and down his length, and your saliva dripping down and squelching with each pass of his hard cock.

“Mmm,” you moaned before releasing him to catch another breath. You tugged harder on his cock as you placed a few tender kisses on his tip. “You’re much bigger than I thought you’d be, too.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking at your face which betrayed how much you knew what you were doing to him.

“I’m gonna go so rough on you,” he said. “You’re just askin’ for it, sunshine.”

Your heart skipped a beat. How could something like that be so romantic? Even the very setting, an old, grimy fisherman’s shack that smelled vaguely of death, wasn’t the ideal place to have sex, but it was perfect.

You licked his cock again happily, smiling up at him with soft eyes as you did. “I want it rough, big boy,” you teased, running your hands up and down his beautiful bare thighs. “I want to see what this cock can do.”

He lost all control then, seeing your taunting face, so beautiful and sweet and yet so irritatingly smug that he had to pick you up by your arms and fling you back against the wall.

You yelped a little in surprise, and felt him tug on your shirt until somehow it was off, and only your bra remained.

He reached behind you with his mouth suctioning harshly onto yours all the while, and the two of you worked to remove the fabric separating him from seeing your breasts in all their aroused glory.

He marveled at the supple tissue and their hardened nipples before squeezing them with his large hands that they seemed to slot so perfectly into.

You laughed into his mouth, amused by his fascination with your breasts, all the while trying and failing to remove his shirt.

He noticed your struggle and stepped back for just a moment to unbutton the offending fabric, and soon he was completely naked.

As you expected, he looked beautiful, as though his body was sculpted by Michelangelo or even the Greek gods themselves. He was perfect, muscular but still soft in that he had the cutest belly, and a chest that seemed to make a great pillow.

“God, you’re sexy,” you said as you absentmindedly rubbed your belly almost hungrily, wandering your eyes all over his body while he stroked himself. “It’s annoying how hot you are.”

He smirked and stepped closer again to strip you of your pants, kneeling down and looking up at you with such arrogance that wasn’t usually one of Daryl’s traits. The compliment must’ve gone to his head.

“You ain’t so bad yourself, princess,” he said, now about to pull down your panties after struggling with your jeans for a moment. “Let’s see what’s been waitin’ for me.”

The cool evening air hit your bare mound when he removed the fabric, and as you closed your eyes, you could already feel his tongue licking up your slit.

“Oh!” you whimpered in shock at the sudden tickling. “Daryl…”

“Such a pretty little pussy,” he cooed, almost teasingly, but with a tinge of genuine desperation in his voice. “Real cute… Nice and wet for me, too.”

He gathered your clear wetness on his fingers as he inched them inside of you, causing you to flex your walls and squeeze him before he could pull them out.

“Ohhh…”

He watched your mouth drop in bliss at the feeling before licking his fingers clean of your arousal.

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Just like honey.”

He bestowed a few sloppy, tongue-heavy kisses on your mound before trailing his tongue up your abdomen, licking you between your breasts until he reached his full height, and shoved his tongue into your agape mouth again.

You were taken aback at his forcefulness, and wrapped your arms around his neck to stabilize yourself against the wall.

“Give me your legs,” he said gruffly, and you obliged, raising one leg for him to hold around his waist as he brought his cock to your entrance with his other hand.

“Ah!” you whimpered when you felt him immediately enter you halfway. “Oh, Jesus…”

It’d been so long since you’d felt something so thick and long inside of you, so warm and hard and throbbing with arousal.

He picked up your other leg and wrapped it around his other side, now using the wall to help him hold your weight as he held you by the back of your knees.

You held onto his neck for dear life, slightly terrified he’d drop you.

“Don’t you dare drop me,” you said sternly, breathing heavily in your desire as you had already started grinding on him. “I’ll kill you, Daryl.”

He smirked and began rhythmically thrusting his hips. “You sayin’ I ain’t man enough to hold ya?”

You rolled your eyes, and were about to tease him back when he thrusted deep inside of you.

“Oh!” you cried softly. “Oh, shit!”

You wrapped your arms around him tighter now, and felt his lips suctioning around the skin of your neck where he had buried his head.

His pubic bone hit your clit so hard that you jolted a few times at the sudden pressure, and the intense tingling emanating from the sensitive nerve endings.

“Ya like that, princess?” he asked into your ear. “How long ya been wantin’ me?”

You threw your head back against the wall and groaned deeply, frustrated at his questioning and the need to feel more pleasure.

“Since… Oh! S-since I… met you.”

He sucked harder on your neck and hoisted your legs up as they started to fall, your body becoming a dead weight with how much bliss it was experiencing.

“Me too,” he panted between thrusts. “So bad…”

His cock pulled out of you suddenly, causing you to shoot your eyes open in disappointment.

“Turn around,” he said, holding you by your waist and doing it himself, then pushing you forward until your breasts were pressed firmly against the wood. You only hoped it didn’t have splinters.

You instinctively spread your legs and planted each hand firmly on the wall, while Daryl slid his hand back and forth over your slit, gathering as much of your wetness as he could before coating his cock in the natural lubricant.

Your hips grinded back against nothing, anticipating his body to return to you, and it did when he pressed his chest to your back, his core to your ass, and reached forward to pull your abdomen even further back against him.

His cock entered you again, and he started thrusting, harder now that he had a new angle, an angle at which his cock his just the right spot inside of you.

“Ooo!” you exclaimed. “Yes! Right there… That’s… Oh…”

Daryl’s cock snaked inside you, back and forth, harder and harder as he raised your left leg and held it against the wall by your knee to get even deeper until he reached his hilt.

“Ah,” he groaned between heavy breaths. You always liked it when men moaned during sex. It seemed like women were always more vocal, but when men did it, especially men like Daryl, you must’ve been making them feel good. “Shit, (Y/N)…”

He pounded harder and harder, holding his body firmly against yours and flexing his ass and moving his hips so furiously you began to feel the convulsions of your orgasm as it reached its peak.

Reaching one hand back, you grasped at his ass, pushing him harder into you. “Oh, I’m gonna come… You’re gonna make me come!”

“Good,” he whispered into your ear as you threw your head back on his shoulder. “Come for me, princess. Good girl…”

He pulled you away from the wall momentarily, and lowered one hand to rub your clit in tight, hard circles until the feeling combined with his thrusting cock made your orgasm release and flow through you.

“Ah! Ah! Oh, Daryl…”

Your body twitched and your hips rode his cock in an uncontrollable, rhythmic pattern while he softly humped you from behind, all the while continuing to caress your slit.

“Mmm,” you moaned happily, a blissful smile on your face as your head rested on his strong, broad shoulder.

Picking up his speed again, he launched you back up against the wall, hoisting up your leg again and preparing to let himself go now.

You huffed and whimpered repeatedly at the feeling of his cock going faster and penetrating you even more aggressively than before now that he was so close to releasing.

You felt him begin to twitch inside you, and that combined with your convulsing pussy told him to pull out of you before spilling his seed all over your lower back, groaning deeply with each spurt of cum that erupted from his cock.

“Oh, shit…” he mumbled, tugging himself until he was empty.

With his other hand, he absentmindedly gathered the cum from your back on his fingers.

“Come ‘ere,” he said, urging you to turn around.

You did, and were met with his white-coated fingers stroking your quivering lips. You opened up for him, licking his fingers clean and taking in all of his cum.

“That taste good?” he asked, watching your tongue intently.

“Mhm,” you hummed with a smile, then kissed his fingers lightly. “So good.”

You retreated to the cot with almost completely limp legs, though Daryl helped you there, holding you by your waist and laying you down gently before tucking himself in next to you.

The cot was a little dusty, but it would have to do. Besides, you were both filthy from sweat and other bodily fluids now, anyway. Still, it was the most comfortable you’d been in a long time.

As you had expected, Daryl’s chest made a wonderful pillow, and he let you rest your head there for a while, his fingers twirling in your hair as the silence settled in.

“Daryl,” you peeped after a while. “I really am sorry for what I said, how I treated you… It wasn’t fair.”

He raised his chin and snuggled you further into him. “Ain’t nothin’,” he said. “Always knew ya had the hots for me, anyway.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “You did not,” you said. “Don’t be such an ass. I’m trying to apologize to you.”

“I know.” He kissed your forehead, then nuzzled his nose against it softly. “I’m sorry, too. For everything… Being mean… Never listenin’ to ya… Especially sorry for callin’ you a bitch. That ain’t true… Knew it wasn’t true when I said it.”

“Well, I was a little bitchy towards you,” you said. “You know, you’re a good man… I didn’t want to see it for a long time because of what I saw with your brother, but that’s not you. You’re not like him at all.”

He nodded in understanding. His brother was an asshole, even he could admit that. “Ya had a right to be like that. We’re good now… Better than good.”

You gently grasped the side of his jaw to pull his face to yours, and kissed his lips more lovingly than you had yet. You could really get used to kissing him, to holding him, to talking to him like this.

“I’m so glad we got lost, Daryl,” you said. “Well, glad you got us lost.”

His eyes widened, and you remembered just how cute he looked when he was angry.

“We were never lost, woman!” he exclaimed. “Told ya, was a detour.”

You laughed. “Oh my god,” you said. “Will you just admit it?”

“Never,” he said, now with his lips forming into a hazy smile. “I’ll admit one thing, though… I, uh… I hope this wasn’t just a one night stand.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” you said. “I’m already mentally rearranging my cell for you.”

The morning after, Daryl helped you carve your initials next to his, so whoever might find this shack one day, seeking refuge from the outside world, might look upon your declaration of love and find hope in that something good must’ve happened here.

And sure enough, Daryl moved into your cell when you eventually found your way back to the prison—following the creek, as you’d suggested.

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Masterlist

[ahs-imaginefics]

reader pronouns: she/her

Carol kicked the bottom of Daryl’s boot. “Get up. Come on. Let’s go do something outside the walls,” she said. He hardly raised an eyebrow at her. “You can’t just sit there all day,” she said.  He let out a scoff and flicked his thumb over the edge of his knife blade again. He was sitting on the front porch with his back against the railing, strategically placed so he could see all the way down the street. “Watch me,” he drawled. She rolled her eyes and sank down next to him, studying the frown on his face. “Do you realize how ridiculous this is?” she started. He glanced sideways at her, an annoyed tightening around his mouth. “I’m serious. None of this needs to be happening,” she said. “You’re pouting, and there’s no point.” His brows knit together. She widened her eyes at him and gave him a pointed look. His expression didn’t change. “What?” he growled.  Carol rolled her eyes. “Just. Tell her.”  He stiffened beside her. “Daryl, how will you ever know if you never try? What are you expecting to come out of not doing anything? If you do nothing, then nothing is what you’re going to get!” He hummed some vague noise and flicked his thumb across the edge of his knife again. “You are so stubborn and infuriating sometimes,” she said, but there was a smile in her voice that made him look back over at her. “What?” he asked again, his heart starting to hammer in his chest. “Ya know somethin’?” “Maybe I do,” she said, glancing pointedly away, casting her eyes up toward the perfectly blue sky.  His heart leapt like someone had connected jumper cables to it and turned the key. “What d’ya know?” he pressed her. She laughed and glanced back at him. “Nothing I’m at liberty to tell you. Except to say that this jealousy you have today over her training with that guy is unnecessary and quite frankly, stupid. AND you need. to just. tell her. You won’t be disappointed.” She gave his arm a friendly squeeze and climbed back up to her feet. “Trust me on this, Daryl.” He gulped. And then the jittery feeling in his chest was replaced with a bracing warmth—hope. Prompt: “You can’t just sit there all day.”

[ahs-imaginefics]

✼The Hobbit Preference: getting called by their first name✼

i thought i might save you from endless despair. How do we feel about a hobbit preference/reaction for when their s/o calls them by first name, i stead of the usual petname they got used to?

thank you for saving me :DD and i feel ecstatic about this

thranduil :

• see that gif right there, he deadass looks at you like that

• his thoughts going at 200 mph wondering 'fUCk what did i do'

• he'd ask if he'd done anything, and you'd just say 'nah'

• he'd be so confused

• he'd just ponder and ponder

•when you tell him he did nothing wrong and you just wanted to see his reaction

• he'd literally just stare at you like this :😐

• he'd overall be surprised but he would literally make you promise to never call him by his first name ever again

thorin:

¬ he straight up panics

¬ my mans does not know what to do

¬ he asks if everything is alright

¬ when you say nothings wrong and you just wanted to call him thorin

¬ he just ascends with relief

¬ he literally lets out a sigh

¬ he runs up to you and hugs you

¬ the next day he calls you your first name the whole day </3

bilbo:

- he dead ass panics

- he starts stuttering and starts running around

- he literally asks you ' d-did i -d-do anything??'

- he just panics and running around in circles

- he just contemplates the things he has said within the last decade of his life that could of hurt you

- at one point he just zooms over to you and hugs you

- and then he just starts rambling incoherent apologies

- and then you'd just pat his head and say ' you did nothing wrong i just wanted to see how you'd react-'

- the sigh of relief that comes out of his mouth

- hes just hugging you even tighter now

- dont call him bilbo unless you want him to pass away

kili;

< deadass just stops in his tracks

< he turns around slowly and asks ' what did you call me?'

< but his voice goes up like 10 octaves

< he just starts asking you ' did i do anything? ' 'are you okay?'

< fili is pissing himself laughing at this point

< you just calmly say ' you did nothing wrong i just wanted to see how you would react'

< he just stares at you

< then tackles you and gives you a hug while scolding you

< 10/10 would recommend

> he nearly faints

> but for the rest of the day affection backhands you in the face

> you're cooking? no you're not you're cuddling with him

> you're doing anything? no you're not fili is giving you affection

> he just constantly comes up to you and gives you lil' smooches

> eventually you tell him

> this time its not affection that backhands you, its a pillow

> he starts rambling about ow you got him worried

> and then you give him a kiss to shut up

> he just looks at you and tackles you and hugs you in the process

> its nice getting the affection but the pillow part isn't

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i had this ready at like 00:00 yesterday but tumblr died and it got rid of my progress and im so sorry for this coming out late ive been practising for an irish oral exam and im going to fail help

[ahs-imaginefics]

Cuteness overload 🌸 x

[ahs-imaginefics]

fizzbin rules 

[ahs-imaginefics]

[ahs-imaginefics]

[ahs-imaginefics]

Percy Smith, Birth of a Flower, 1910

my gifs

[ahs-imaginefics]

Love it!

Heathen (Ivar x Warrior Reader) Part One

Summary: You are Bishop Heahmund’s younger sister. You fight alongside your brother during the battle of York, ultimately catching the eye of a certain Lothbrok brother.

    Blood coated your fingers like caramel over an apple, only brilliant red instead of soft golden browns.  It felt no different from wet mud but it wasn’t. You knew you should have been repulsed, eager to wash it off, but instead you felt a laughter building in your belly as you swung your heavy sword at the godless devils that had killed your people. Your king.

   “Y/N! Go help the town centre!” Prince Alfred yelled to you as he ducked under a flying arrow. 

   “Prince, you need my help here!” You yelled back, burying your sword in the chest of a large Pagan, before ripping it out with a grunt. 

   “Your brother is there!” The prince said as he pushed his way toward you; ragged and bloody looking. 

   “Very well, stay here. I will find my brother.” You said, masking the fear in your voice.You had heard word that the town centre was already taken. You hurriedly sliced through  more heathens and barged through a crowd of your own men. It was disorantiting to say the least. With all the violence and blood, the once joyful town of York seemed like a barren and desolate hell. All the streets had the same scene; bodies of Christian and Pagan men laying strewn in piles, mud caking their wounds with crimson liquid oozing out of their sliced flesh. Your eyes raked the streets, but there was no sign of your brother. Worry turned your stomach to lead as you searched the bodies for Heahmund. It was not until then that you had noticed how tired you were, the initial adrenaline was slowly washing away, leaving your battered and bruised body with agonizing panic. 

   It was not until you had cleared the East side of the town, that you spotted Heahmund. Upon a great brown horse he sat, trampling the Norsemen left, right in centre. Your shoulders slackened, the worry for the most part, washing away. He was still alive for now. And so were you. Heahmunds horse begun to get crowded by the Pagans that swarmed your brother like ants. You needed to do something, otherwise he would get over run and killed. You stood there, even though your hands clutched your sword, your fingers opened and closed nervously  as you devised a plan. Nothing. Your mind drew a blank. Without a second thought, you dived into the raging battle, swinging your sword barbarically at any Pagan that dared get to close. You ducked the swing of an axe, before burying your sword in the stomach of a great beast of a man. Thinking he was finished, you slid your sword out and let him drop to the ground with a thud. 

   “Heahmund, duck!” You yelled at your brother, seeing a blond Pagan woman draw her bow. Just as you were going to take another step, a gloved hand tugged you to the ground. A groan escaped your lips as your head connected with the cold, muddy ground. Pain shot through your back, as you scrambled to get your sword. Grasping it, you flipped back onto your back. Standing over you was that beast of a Norseman, the one you thought was dead. His large foot stomped down on your hand, making you lose your sword again. Letting out a cry of pain, you grabbed his foot with your other hand, flipping him backwards. Just as quickly as it happened, he was back on his feet. You hauled yourself up, clutching your sprained hand. Your eyes widened as the Norseman lurched at you.   He threw his body weight behind the fist that edged closer to your face, it hit your jaw with such force blood pooled into your mouth. Pain erupted from the point of impact. With predominantly your left hand, you grasped his head in your hands and brought your knee cap up to his nose, there was a blunt crack and you released his dark haired head. Crimson leaked from both his nostrils and his nose was twisted right. He drew his fist back again and it ploughed into your stomach, it was like hitting a train head on. Your guts smashed together, blood vessels bursting. You repaid this by punching his jaw, your fist collided with all your body weight. You continued this battering until he fell to the floor.      

    His chest gently rose and sank with each shallow breath he drew in. Your legs buckled under you, sending you toppling to the ground with excruciating abdominal pain from the blow that Norseman gave you. Your fingers wrapped around a lost blade that was buried in the mud beside you. Picking it up, you crawled over to the knocked out Pagan. You drew in a ragged breath as you plunged the blade into the skull of the man, spraying you with crimson blood, before collapsing to the ground. You heard your brother scream ‘Heathen’, before it all went black. 

   Your eyes fluttered open, revealing ominous black clouds that stretched across the sky. The clouds were crying rigorously, emptying themselves upon you, drenching your clothes. A sickening feeling begun to fill your gut as you sat yourself up. Your hands and legs were bound, and in front of you sat a bloody faced Norseman. His hair was in black braids, and in his hands, he twirled a glimmering blade. 

   “Your brother said your name was Y/N, yes?” He asked you. Your brother? The viking man took your silence as a ‘yes.’  A smirk started to form on his lips as leaned forward. 

   “My name is Ivar. Ivar Lothbrok.”

—

Thanks for reading! Part 2 is coming soon! This is one of my first times posting about Vikings, so I hope it is relatively decent. 

[ahs-imaginefics]

hi!! this is my first time submitting a request for a fic so i hope im not bothering you. May i request a fluffy michael langdon x reader fic where reader is chubby and silently pining over her boss Michael (she works as an intern in jeff&mutt's company) and it she never confessed cause she thinks there's no chance that he will like her back since he can get anyone he wants so everytime he's near she's nervous, silent, shy, and doesn't know what to say; It went on until Michael approached her during the apocalypse. and work ur author magic on what happens next. [maybe hint a small smut in the end if u can please ;)) ] THANK YOU SO MUCH I ADVANCE! <3

I am working on it now! Sorry for the late reply, I haven’t been on here in ages!

[ahs-imaginefics]

Such a great fic, the author is amazing!!!

Grunge!Michael Langdon X Reader

Summary: Basically Michael just comforts you because honestly I feel like we all could use that right now. And then you make out!

Of course he knew you too well, it was futile to even try and hide it from him.

Michael didn't even give you the chance to fake a smile at him before he had engulfed you in a strong embrace already murmuring sweet nothings against your temple. However, the sudden and unexpected show of kindness did little to ease your delicate emotions only prompting you to soak Michael's shoulder with your tears as you dug your nails into his back wanting to bring him closer.

Now you were lying together on Michael's bed, your head rested comfortably on his chest as his arms held you securely; one hand was running up and down your spine with a soothing stroking gesture, while the other repeated the same movement on the arm you had lazily draped across his waist. The silence lasted for awhile and eventually you found yourself drifting off to sleep, exhausted from the amount of crying, but before you could fully lose consciousness, Michael lifted his hand to caress the back of your skull, tangling his fingers in your hair and gently tugging to get you to look at him. Your eyes fluttered open weakly and you moaned softly wanting to return to your peaceful state. Giving your lips an apologetic kiss, he continued "Do you want to talk about it?"

Your heart ached as you remembered what it was you were even crying about. Cheeks burning with shame, you forced Michael to let go of the grip he had on your hair so you could hide your face in his chest as it started to scrunch up with a new wave of tears. "It's your mother, isn't it?" He asked you gently, continuing to stroke his hand through your hair. You nodded, your bottom lip wobbling too much for you to risk your voice.

"Well? What did the bitch say this time?" He chuckled when you giggled softly at the hatred he had towards your mother. Taking a deep breath, you wiped your eyes roughly not yet trusting your voice. "S-she, uh...she said-" You flinched when your voice broke off with a loud crack, unconsciously you tried to distract yourself by picking at the black shirt Michael wore until the hand he had resting on your arm settled over your own, stopping your movements and getting you to focus again.

"Y/N." His voice was firm and you quickly apologized before continuing. "Michael, she said I had to break up with you." Your words were rushed and you just prayed he didn't make you repeat yourself. Michael remained silent, the grip he had on your hand tightened reassuringly and you waited, anxiously, for what he had to say.

"You know, for such a Jesus freak, she's kind of quick to hate people." You sighed loudly, his words not lightening the mood like he had hoped. "So, are you going to?" You lifted your head off his chest, shifting into an uncomfortable position so you could meet his eye while still staying curled to his side. "Going to what?" Michael's gaze darted around somewhat awkwardly before whispering "Break up with me?"

You bit down on your bottom lip staring at him for a long while. Knowing you should. Knowing your mother was probably right about him being bad for you and that you should just trust her. But you merely shook your head, knowing you could never leave Michael.

"Atta girl." Michael encouraged, grinning widely as he pulled you in for a sweet kiss. At least, it started out that way. Just your lips resting against one another at first before slowly moving in sync. It was Michael though who went to turn up the heat. He pulled himself out from under you so he could grip your face with both hands, he licked your lips, not bothering to beg but instead skipping straight to forcing his tongue into your mouth.

You pushed on his shoulders, the sudden intrusion literally taking your breath away but he kept you down and straddled your hips only momentarily pausing when you slapped his arm. "Jeez, Michael. Don't actually eat my face!" You laughed when he pulled back only to help you remove the flimsy sweater you wore. Michael gave a half hearted chuckle of his own before he was back on you. His tongue easily dominated your own and you sighed contently, enjoying the feeling of the warm, wet apendage brushing your own and tickling the roof of your mouth. You traced your hands up to his scalp, twisting your fingers into the silky strands you could never get enough of. Michael groaned into your mouth when your hips involuntarily thrusted upward, you tugged on his hair roughly when the sudden jolt of pleasure from your pubic bone meeting his crotch shot through your bodies.

"S-sorry." You mumbled against his lips "It's fine." His voice sounded weaker than usual and he shifted so he could lean his weight on one elbow while the other hand started to travel between your legs. "Here," he grunted, trying to nudge your legs apart, you caught on and wrapped your legs around his waist and he smiled, your teeth clashing slightly as you tried to maneuver your bodies while still kissing. "Better angle." He explained against your lips. You nodded groaning loudly when he brought his hips down against yours. Both of your lips faltered slightly as Michael continued to rut against you at a clumsy and fervent pace.

He gripped your jaw harshly, too caught up with the pleasure you received from grinding to focus on the kiss so he helped guide you back into it. You could hear the bed frame squeaking loudly as well as a soft knock at the front door downstairs. There was a familiar voice but you were too caught up in the physical sensations to even try to think about it. "D-don't stop, p-please." You begged when Michael started peppering kiss across your jaw and down your neck allowing you to put more effort in thrusting your hips to meet his own, increasing the pleasurable feeling. "Not planning on it." He teased, smirking against the sensitive skin of your neck.

You jumped when Michael's bedroom door opened to reveal Ms. Mead who couldn't help but smile when she saw the situation you two were in. Michael pulled back a moment too late, obviously knowing Ms. Mead didn't mind you messing around, but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable. You sat up when Michael flopped down next to you, quickly fixing the skirt of your dress and awkwardly keeping your head down. Michael gave you an amused look before smiling towards Ms. Mead. "Y/N, your mother's here. She says you didn't come home after school and figured she'd find you here." She explained sweetly, her eyes scanned your form "Guess she was right." You gave a breathless laugh and flattened your hair, standing up to leave.

"Um, alright. I'll call you later, Michael." You said sadly, knowing very well you'd lose all phone privileges after pulling this stunt. Michael shot you a worried look, seeing right through your lie. He stood up from the bed too and tossed your discarded sweater to you. "Good luck." He mumbled, moving forward to wrap his arms around your neck, bringing you in for a tight hug. "Thanks." You murmured back, you pulled away knowing you couldn't stay long.

"Oh and Y/N?" Michael called, stopping you just before you turned down the hall. "I love you."

[ahs-imaginefics]

Dating Michael Langdon Would Include

This was requested so hopefully you like it!

- Hugging from behind

-Staying up late, 

- Deep conversations

- Him being overly protective of you

- Comforting Michael when he was unsure of what he was supposed to do

- Blood rituals together  

- Cuddling

- Laying on his chest as he plans global domination 

- Comforting him when he vents about Constance

- Hugging him and tending to him when Mrs Mead dies

- Him getting jealous easily

- He likes to play with your hair

- He high key steals your shampoo 

#young michael langdon #michael langdon #ahs #apocolypse #dating michael langdon #fluff #cody fern #you #x y/n

[ahs-imaginefics]

Trapped Souls. Young! Michael Langdon x Reader Imagine!

Part One Summery: You are a ghost living in the Murder House, trapped forever. You are dating Young Michael, until he is kicked out. A Year later he pays you a visit.

Warnings: Lots of Fluff,

***. 

ONE YEAR AGO

The moon cast a silver ray of light into the room. Michaels golden locks seemed even brighter in the wash of pale light as he stared into your eyes. A smirk crept it's way onto your boyfriend's face as he watched you trying your hardest not to blink. You were opposite him, legs crossed on his black sheeted bed with your hands balled into fists, trying to relieve the stinging of your eyes. You were adamant not to lose a staring competition for the third time on a row.

“I have a feeling you are going to lose again." Michael chuckled as he poked your cheek, causing your lips to curl into a smile as you 'fake' glared into his crystal blue eyes.

"Shut up. I am so going to win this time.'" 

As if on cue, you blinked, relieving the singing in your eyes but not the burn of losing a relatively easy game.

"I win!" He grinned as he grabbed your hand, tugging you down onto the bed and pulled you in, wrapping his arms around your waist as laid your head on his chest. Something you found strangely comforting, to be close to someone living. After all, you were a ghost trapped forever within those walls so the fact you could be so close to something living made you feel relaxed. His fingers danced through your H/C locks as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. You two often stayed up late watching movies and having playful competitions, it had been like that ever since you met and soon became best friends, and only a few weeks ago you had started going out. Michael was clingy and always wanted to cuddle, which of course you did not mind. You found that he was very sensitive and would overthink a lot, and needed a lot of comforting and reassurance you were never going to leave him. You fluttered your eyes closed as he pressed kisses on the top of your head, not wanting this blissful moment to end you pressed yourself closer to him as if it would slow downtime. You were never going to leave him, though it might be a different story about him. Little did you know this would be the last time you would see him for a long time. 

PRESENT DAY

The house as void of all living people, and had been for about half a year. Constance had killed herself six months after she kicked Michael out, though her ghost self would never admit to it, she would tell you he ran, ran from the house, ran from the death, that he ran from You. He was the only thing that had been able to make you feel, and now that he was gone, you were just about as empty as the house. Sure there were other ghosts, but all of them were messed up to put it lightly. The place was home to murderers, rapists, a school shooter, a depressed psychiatrist, and other not so friendly entities. The only person you could vaguely stand being around was Violet Harmon, Michaels older sister. She was nice but not much fun, she spent most of her days crying about Tate.

So you were doomed to be alone in this madhouse for eternity. You were sitting in your old bedroom, turning the pages of the book you were reading, your eyes skimmed the words but you couldn't take anything in. Something pre-occupied your mind but you did not know what, like something was going to happen. You heard a crash from downstairs. The next thing you knew, footsteps could be heard approaching your room. Has someone new moved in? You hoped not, this place was cramped enough as It was. You carefully got up, listening to the footfalls. They had stopped just outside your door. A knock. You frowned as you moved closer to the door, none of the ghosts would knock, and a human would not know you were in there. You pondered if it could be that witch and wizard that visited a few days ago, asking about Michael. Shoving all thoughts to the back of your mind, you flung the door open, revealing the last person you expected. Vivian Harmon. You had never spoken to her in person but you knew she had birthed Michael. "Um, hi?" You said as she fidgeted with her golden hair. It looked just like Michaels.

"Hi Y/N, no one else wanted to do this but someone is downstairs waiting for you." Before you could reply, she disappeared out of sight. Weird. Who could be waiting for you? You quickly made your way down the stairs. At the bottom, you could see someone looking out the window, his back turned to you. He had long  straight golden hair that seemed to glow in the sunlight. He was clad in a long black jacket and boots.

"Hi, who are you?" You asked, walking closer. He turned around, his hands clasped behind his back and a devilish smirk plastered to his pale face. If your heart was still beating, this is the moment it would have stopped. Standing right in front of you was Michael. "I think you should know who I am." He grinned and pulled you into a hug. Your eyes were wide as you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around him. It was him, really him! You pulled back, gazing into his crystal eyes. You had no words, but him being himself, had many.

"Not a day has gone by  that I have not  missed you." He Whispered, wiping away a tear that had fallen from your brimming eyes.

"I-I have missed you so much." You smiled as he pulled you into him, His face inches from yours. The next thing you knew, his lips crashed onto yours. You stood frozen for a moment before kissing back, his hands grabbed your waist as you tangled yours in his hair. His lips were soft and tasted of apples, you could feel him smiling against your mouth which yours naturally imitated. You broke away to catch your breath, resting your forehead on his, still wrapped in his strong arms. He had certainly become more confident and you had to admit, long hair suited him. There was a playful glint in his crystal eyes as he gazed into yours. You blinked in confusion, causing him to grin and murmur, "That was a staring contest. I win." 

#imagine #young michael langdon #fluff #ahs #apocolypse #antichrist #cute #michael langdon x you #michael langdon x reader #young michael